Touched
by EggDropSoup
Summary: Complete! One-shot. Alternate Universe. Hisoka is a hospital runaway on a train to somewhere. He comes across a strange man who sits beside him.


Parings**:** TsuSoka (_ TsuzukixHisoka_).

Summary**:** Alternate Universe with an ailing, hospital runaway Hisoka and a detective Tsuzuki. Fanfic inspired by Vast's song _Touched_.

Disclaimer**: **I don't own Yami no Matsuei or Vast's song _Touched_, from which I used the first two lines of the story.

**AN: **I accidently deleted this when I was removing old gundam wing fanfiction from my account. I don't know how it happened, but obviously it was a stupid error on my part. Sorry everyone!

**Touched  
**By: EggDropSoup

"_I looked into your eyes and saw, a world that does not exist.  
I looked into your eyes and saw, a world I wish I was in__."_

Hisoka glanced out the window and gazed at the people who passed by. The town's train station was gray and dreadful. Just like it's people. Lifeless. And completely blind to the world around them. The town had always been that way, he remembered. Closed off from the outside world.

The town and its inhabitants were cursed and only he could see them for what they really were. Revolting.

The rural village had once been beautiful, with its ancient houses and old traditions. Hisoka missed traveling along the stony paths near his family's home, the quiet walks allowing him to relax, when he wasn't confined to his cell. But his illness had kept him indoors all day. Just thinking about the sterile white walls and the smell of disinfectant nauseated him. But he was leaving-running away to a place where he wouldn't constantly feel fear, contempt, or hatred.

It wouldn't matter where he went, just so long as it was somewhere far away. He was sure that his parents wouldn't look for him; in fact, they'd probably feel relieved. And as far as the hospital staff was concerned, he was doomed to die anyway. It was better just to move-

"Excuse me?"

He turned around to see a man in his late twenties staring down at him, clad in a large trench coat, and a small brief case hanging loosely by his side. Hisoka glared at him, hoping he would get lost.

"Is this seat taken?"

The man's voice was cheerful and the corners of his mouth turned up into a goofy grin was evidence enough, that Hisoka's earlier sizzling look hadn't scared him off. He reminded Hisoka of a little kid. As the excitement the man was feeling was starting to come to him in pulsating waves. It was giving him a headache.

"No." Hisoka snarled.

"Then can I…sit here?"

Hisoka closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat.

"I'll take that as a yes," The man mumbled and slipped into the seat. Hisoka opened his eyes just enough to watch him struggle out of his trench coat, revealing a rumpled black work suit and a sloppy tie.

"What's your name?"

Hisoka didn't answer.

The smile quickly faded from the older man's lips. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

"Hisoka." Unsure of what compelled him to answer.

Purple eyes Hisoka hadn't noticed before glanced up. "Asato Tsuzuki."

The name. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he was certain he'd never seen the man before. He would have remembered those eyes, if not the man's complex emotions that were now emitting a low humming sound in the back of his mind.

'_None of my business, anyway.'_ He shrugged it off as the train jerked forward and pulled out of the station.

* * *

A jerk of the train shook Hisoka awake. He opened his eyes to see the man fighting to extricate something from the deep pockets of his coat. The thought occurred to him that man probably didn't have any thing of value on him – he was just some dirt, poor idiot Hisoka had the bad luck of sitting next to.

The man retrieved a small notebook and balanced it on his knee before bending forward to wedge other papers and loose candy wrappers back into the depths of his coat pockets. In his struggle, he knocked the pad to the floor, causing several pages to scatter beneath their feet. A photograph landed right side up.

Hisoka glanced at the picture of a family in front of a Christmas tree. They seemed happy, the parents evidently wealthy, with their two small children smiling brightly beside them.

The empty space in his chest expanded as a faint memory of his own family flit through his mind.

"_I love you, my little one."_

"_Kill it Nagare! Kill it!"_

"_You are not my child."_

He reached down to claim the photo from the floor.

Hisoka tapped the man lightly on the shoulder. The man turned, his purple eyes distant, and his mouth already poised in a hollow smile. But then his gaze traveled to the picture held in the boy's hand. His face instantly turned rigid as he held out a shaking hand to retrieve the photograph.

The man's fingers briefly brushed against his own as he took back the picture, but that contact was just enough to send his inner turmoil spiraling into Hisoka. Raw pain mixed with regret and loss. Emotions so strong and intense that Hisoka's body convulsed from the impact, his hands shaking and his breathing shallow.

His brain clicked, matching the man's name and the photograph of the family, with the news segment he had watched a few days ago. The family in the picture had been brutally murdered; and the authorities had caught the serial killer a few days later. Asato Tsuzuki was the name of the detective who was covering the case.

He remembered the happy faces of the family, bright smiles and warm hugs. All torn apart by a raving maniac.

Seeing Hisoka's distress, the man raised the armrest that divided them. "Are you okay?" Warm concern surged through Hisoka from the other man, making him feel dizzy.

"Aren't you the one who should be asked that?" Hisoka gasped out.

Recollection flashed briefly in those grief-stricken purple eyes and the man's face crumpled beneath the burden of guilt. Guilt for being alive.

It was a feeling Hisoka knew all too well.

And in that moment something tugged at Hisoka's heart from the clutch of emptiness.

"It was my fault. I… I was too late. I couldn't save them…" The man looked down at his hands, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. Wiping his eyes, he shook his head and let out a strained laugh. "Look at me, a grown man crying just over this. You must think I'm a real idiot." The false smile appeared back on his lips. "But I'll..."

Hisoka looked down into the man's eyes and felt…

Warm arms wrapped around the man's neck and pulled him down, holding him tight. Not being able to hold back his tears anymore, the man let them flow down his cheeks as he buried his face into the fabric of Hisoka's shirt. Clinging to him as Hisoka whispered comforting words in his ear, and ran his fingers soothingly through the older man's hair.

The gentle connection broke and the older man stared up at him –light tracks on his cheeks from his tears.

And Hisoka had never seen anything so beautiful.

**End.**


End file.
